A_Little_Harmless_Fascination

by Melissa Schroeder

  She could tell by the serious look in his eyes that he wasn’t kidding.

  “Thank you.”

  He slid his finger down her cheek and then traced her jaw. Even though the sun was warm on her skin, she shivered. The breath tangled in her throat as he leaned forward and brushed his mouth over hers. She could taste the salt of the ocean on his lips, but he didn’t deepen the kiss. Instead, he pulled back and smiled down at her.

  “Fish tacos?”

  It took her a few moments to get her brain to work. Her heart was still beating hard against her chest as her head spun. The man barely kissed her and she was melting there on the sand.

  “Jillian?”

  “Yeah, fish tacos. You’ll love them.”

  "You lead, and I’ll follow."

  * * * *

  Conner glanced around the little restaurant. They had taken a seat outside, and he had enjoyed watching the mixture of tourists and locals mingle on the streets and the shops of Haleiwa.

  Jillian made a humming sound, bringing his attention back to her. Again, Conner was amazed how much food Jillian could pack away. She ate like it might be her last meal, and he was pretty sure if he hadn't forgotten to eat breakfast, she would have outeaten him. He didn't know where she hid it. She wasn't slim, but she definitely wasn't fat. In fact, she was just the way he liked his women. He didn't like skin and bones. He liked a woman who didn't make him feel like a giant.

  "Do you want another order?"

  She laughed. "No. I think this was enough, although they are one of my favorite meals. I love the fish tacos here."

  She took a sip of her drink and watched him over the rim of her cup.

  "Thanks for pulling me out of the house today."

  He started to wave it away, but she shook her head. "No, when I have to deal with my family, it can put me in a mood for days, sometimes a week. They aren't the most pleasant people to deal with."

  "You have any cousins near your age?"

  "A few. I wasn't ever that close to them. They saw me as an interloper."

  "And, what do they do?"

  Her brow furrowed. "Do?"

  "Do, you know, for a living?"

  She shrugged. “Most of them just live off the family money. Everyone gets a monthly stipend."

  "But you work, so I assume that they must have to, also."

  "I write, and I make a very nice living from it, but I don't have to work, if you get my drift."

  "Really? So what do you do with all your money?"

  She laughed. "That’s really rude."

  He felt his cheeks burning. "Sorry. It's just that your house isn't very high end. I like it, don't get me wrong, just that if you have that much money..."

  "Why don't I have one of those palatial estates in Kailua or near Diamond Head?"

  He nodded.

  "First, that house is expensive because all land here on Oahu is. But I give to a lot of charities.”

  Of course she would.

  "And you write so you can do that?"

  "No, I can do that because I write. I don't choose to write."

  "You have no control over what you do, is that what you're telling me?"

  “It’s been something that I have always wanted, but I don’t truly choose to do it.”

  “Bullshit.”

  She smiled then and it reached her eyes. "It’s the truth, I promise. That would drive you crazy, wouldn't it? I have a feeling you have control issues."

  He shifted in his seat, ignoring her knowing look. It was one thing to live in the BDSM lifestyle. It was another thing for her to know it. If she knew it, his sister would, too. Maura knew of his lifestyle. He had never hidden it from her. It was different for his baby sister to know the dirty details.

  "No comment?"

  "Just because I know Micah and Dee doesn't mean I have anything to do with the club."

  "I knew from the first time I met you that you had the tendencies of a Dom.

  "You did not know I was a Dom the first time you met me."

  "Okay, when I was in school, no. I didn’t understand it then. But, I noticed how you would stride through those hallways like you owned the place. There was a reason there were always tons of girls with absolutely nothing to do the night you showed up to take Maura out."

  "Now who's lying?"

  "Seriously, you think a bunch of college coeds have nothing to do on a Saturday night?"

  He had thought it odd, but he hadn't lived on campus when he went to school.

  "Still, how would you know what I do in the bedroom by the way I act?"

  She rolled her eyes in much the same way his sister did. But instead of irritating him like it did when Maura did it, it turned him on. Truth was, just about everything she did turned him on. Even when she was mocking him, he wanted her. It was like he was a teenager again with a crush.

  He really was in deep.

  "When you showed up here, I sensed it. I mean, I write the stuff.” She shrugged. “And I have a degree in sociology with a minor in psychology.”

  “Lord.”

  “Why do all guys have that reaction?”

  “Because women are always trying to figure out what makes men tick. With your degrees, there’s a good chance you could figure it out and then tell us how to fix it.”

  Her lips curved as she leaned forward. “I would never use it to fix a man. Screw with his head, yes. Fix him, not my job.”

  He laughed, enjoying her sick sense of humor.

  “You doubt me?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “Not at all. I have a healthy degree of respect for a smart woman with your sense of humor.”

  “Good, you should know what you’re getting into if you are thinking of messing with me.”

  “But you picked me out as a Dom even before I told you that day?”

  She nodded to confirm his statement. “Like I said, with my background and, of course with my writing, I know the tendencies. If you hadn’t told me, I would have definitely guessed after that kiss last night. If I didn’t, calling me up and giving me orders went beyond just the normal phone sex."

  She said it loud enough for the table next to them to notice.

  "This is something you've done?" he asked.

  Part of him wanted to know but another part of him didn’t. He didn’t want to think about her with another man. He had always thought she was a little dominant herself, but after last night, he wasn’t so sure. She had always seemed so in control, so willing to take the reins.

  "Dabbled. I have trust issues so that kind of lifestyle would be hard to deal with if I didn't trust the guy completely. Let's get back to you. Why don’t you have a regular club back in Florida?"

  His eyes narrowed. "Are you taking notes for your books?"

  She chuckled. "No, but I will warn you that most things in my life have some kind of influence on my writing. Sometimes I don't even notice it until I read the final draft."

  She shifted her braids over her shoulder, and it brought his attention to her tattoos.

  "Rebellion?" he asked, nodding his head to her shoulder. She had a multitude of them, bright and colorful. He had never been into tattoos himself, but he had always had a secret thing for women who were. That and piercings.

  "In a way. I am an expressive person. This is just another way of expressing myself. If I irritate the family in the process, so be it."

  "I didn't think you saw them that much while you lived here."

  "I don’t, thank the good lord. Every now and then I do have to make it back to Atlanta for the quarterly business meetings. Plus, my PA lives there."

  "Your PA?"

  "Yeah, I hired a personal assistant. All my mail goes there, she sends it to me. And don't think that you got yourself off the hook. I still have a few more questions. So back to the club issue?"

  "No. I tried out a few, but really didn't like them. I was a member in DC, had been a member of a club in Miami, but it closed down. After that, I just never found one that I liked
."

  "You like to do things in private? So you don't play in public?"

  He shifted again but this time not from embarrassment. Just talking about this with Jillian was making him insane. He had wanted the woman before, but now he wasn't too sure of what he wanted from her. If she were a sub, it would add another level to their relationship he wasn't sure either of them were ready for. But, dammit, he wanted it. Wanted it so badly he was having trouble controlling himself. That hadn’t happened in years.

  "Depends. I tend to enjoy privacy more, but it isn’t out of the question that I would go for fun and games at a club, especially when I was younger and wasn’t in a long-term relationship. Plus, some subs have fantasies about submitting in public, or if I know it is something that will break them down…make them mine.”

  He saw the flare of interest in her eyes. It sparked something inside of him he hadn't felt in months, possibly years. He’d had relationships, and up until the last couple of months he’d had sex regularly, but he had grown bored with the scene, with the act. When he’d found himself going through the motions of a submission, he had decided to take a break.

  Now, though, he was intrigued. If she had trust issues, she had probably never really submitted. Thinking of initiating Jillian into the lifestyle had his palms sweating and his cock standing at attention.

  He realized she was staring at him as if trying to read his mind. "So you say you dabbled?"

  She nodded and took a sip of her tea. It was easy to see the way her eyes had shied away for a moment, then rested back on him.

  "A bit, but not with anyone in the lifestyle. I never took that leap."

  "Why not?"

  "I told you, trust issues."

  Of course. He knew there was more than she was telling him. A woman with her family background would have some problems, but not to the extent he was thinking she might have.

  "And last night was the first night you were at Rough ‘n Ready?"

  "Yeah. Your sister hooked me up because I want to write a suspense and there needs to be scenes in a BDSM club. I'd never been to one before."

  That gave him pause. "Never?"

  She shook her head. "I don't live the life. I do research, but this one actually has people working at the club, so I thought it would help. Micah was very accommodating."

  "I just bet he was,” he said. Even as he said it, he heard the irritation in his voice.

  "Excuse me?"

  He shook his head. He didn't know why he felt the spark of jealousy toward a man he considered a friend and who Conner knew was completely in love with his wife.

  "I might have to interview that other Dom, though."

  "Rome?"

  She shook her head. "Well, wait, he might be good to interview, being a cop. But I was talking about the other guy."

  She was starting to jump from one subject to the other, and his head was starting to spin. It was hard to keep up with what she was talking about.

  "Who?"

  "What? Oh, that Eli guy. And he's a cowboy from what the other women tell me, so that would be interesting."

  "I heard that, but I would check his story again if I were you."

  She gave him a knowing smile. "He lives on the Big Island. There are ranches there. There are even some here, too. Don't think you know everything about Hawaii until you've lived here for a while."

  "I'm not going to live here."

  She shook her head. "Of course not. Anyway, I need to get back and get some words on the page."

  He didn't want to go, wanted to spend more time with her, but he knew better than to push.

  "What?" she asked.

  "Nothing."

  "Okay, then, let's blow this joint. If I can get this stuff written, I get to watch shows tonight."

  And he would have to find something to occupy his time rather than think about the woman who was, at this point, driving him over the edge.

  Chapter Seven

  Jillian couldn't write. The cursor was blinking on the screen, mocking her. For the first time in five years, she was sitting at her computer completely freaking out. She had never had a problem with writer's block. Okay, so at the beginning she sometimes had problems. It would go slowly or she would worry if she had the right idea about where the plot would go. Sure, she was more productive at other times than some, but she had always worked through it. She scoffed at people who said they had problems with it. It was easy to work through. She could jump onto something else…skip the scene that was giving her problems. As long as she kept moving forward, she was fine.

  Now, she couldn’t think of anything beyond the man upstairs.

  The screen mocked her. Two hours. She hadn't written anything but two words in two hours. Chapter One. It was enough to give a girl a panic attack.

  There had only been a couple of times she had issues, but as she had remembered, she had worked through them. Each time it had been her family problems getting in the way. She wished that were the case now. That would be easy enough to deal with. Her family issues were small compared to the person who was occupying her mind right now.

  Just imagining him up there had her blood temperature soaring. That discussion at lunch had made her little crush even worse. Knowing for sure he lived in the lifestyle, seeing the way he watched her when they spoke—it had her insides going all flip-floppy on her. Jillian wasn’t a woman who went gooey because a guy paid attention to her.

  She closed her eyes and sighed. The man was going to kill her. Being in her house a month, knowing what he liked to do in bed...

  Of course, she wondered about his preferences. She knew from research that Doms all had their own likes and dislikes. Was he a spanker? A little zing of heat pulsed through her blood at the thought. Did he like to use a paddle or a cat o’ nine tails? She shifted in her chair and groaned when she felt her wet panties rub against her clit.

  The man was driving her to distraction. What was she going to do about him? The normal Jillian would go for it and to hell with the consequences, but she had other concerns here. First and foremost, his sister was her friend. Maura was one of the few female friends Jillian had. She had been her best friend for years, and Jillian didn’t want to ruin that. If the fling ended badly, she didn’t want to lose Maura. And that is all it could be, a fling. She wasn’t a woman for long relationships. Men tended to get in the way, and she had those trust issues.

  Her other worry was meeting his needs in the bedroom. Would she be able to do the things he wanted, needed, from her? She wasn't sure she could, wasn't too sure that she wanted to.

  Scratch that. She did want to—there was no doubt about that. She had always been intrigued by the lifestyle. It’s how she’d started to write BDSM themed books. She had spent years researching, talking to subs and Doms. Sir Samson, the first Dom she'd interviewed, had told her that she was a submissive, but she wouldn't submit to just anyone. He claimed her trust issues would make it damned near impossible for anyone to get her submission. She should email him and tell him just what she was going through. Lord knew Sir Samson had a sick sense of humor, and he would surely appreciate her situation.

  But she couldn't. This was private. And that told her that it was more than just a fling. Which scared the hell out of her. She wasn’t emotionally equipped to handle a true relationship. She had proven that more than once. This time was different. Never before had she held back from Sir Samson, but now she was.

  Why?

  There was only one thing that would have her keep things from Sir Samson. Her heart was involved—and that scared the living shit out of her.

  She had a healthy sex drive. She didn't sleep around, and she didn't believe in one-night stands. Still, she did keep her relationships light and easy. With Conner, there would be no light about it. They were tangled up in so many ways that she wasn't sure she could deal with it when it ended. And it would end. She would never move back to the mainland and he would never move here.

  There was a knock at her door. Jillia
n was thankful and irritated with the interruption. She needed to stop mooning over Conner, but she wasn’t quite ready to stop. With a sigh, she walked to the door wondering what Mick and Adam needed tonight. The two men never seemed to be able to make it to a grocery store.

  She opened the door and found Conner Dillon standing on the other side of it, one shoulder propped up against the doorjamb. The sun was setting, slipping behind the mountains that were at his back. Every drop of moisture in her mouth dried up.

  "Did you get your writing done?" he asked.

  She sighed. He looked too good to ignore. How could a man wear a pair of shorts and T-shirt and seem to intrigue her in a way no other had before? She saw men half naked every day in Hawaii, but she was sure this one would catch her attention if he were dressed from head to toe. Part of it, she knew, was that she was accustomed to seeing him in more clothes. Now, though, he looked like a local…down to the bare feet.

  "No."

  "Oh, sorry, I guess I should let you get back to it."

  But he didn't move. The sweet air thickened around them, the tension growing as it had the night before. Jillian knew she should tell him to go away. Playing the temperamental author was never that hard for her. She was a temperamental author and had used it to her advantage in the past. Now, though, she couldn’t. She needed to spend time with him, wanted it with a scary type of lust that had her worried. Still, she pushed those thoughts aside.

  "No, come in. I’m having a bad time writing, so I need a break."

  She turned and walked toward the kitchen. She needed something cold to drink, and looking at him just made her want to jump his bones. Instead of gaining relief, she felt his gaze on her back. Shit. The door shut quietly, and his footsteps followed her.

  "Do you normally have issues with writing?" he asked.

  She shook her head as she pulled out a pitcher of strawberry lemonade she had made earlier. "Want some?"

  For a moment, he just looked at her with those solemn eyes of his, and she felt her heart turn over. God, the man was wicked. Without a word, he had her. He didn’t have to touch her, and she was ready to be naked. Now.

  After another moment or two, he nodded.